Nerd Angels and Death
by TruffleHead
Summary: Angering either of them is never a good idea. For as much as Cas' grace can do, the angel is powerless, absolutely powerless, against Death itself. Destiel.
1. Nerd Angels and Death: Chapter One

**Thanks so much for dear GogglyHead for helping me out with the kissing scene. I'm still very squeemish when it comes to stuff like that. XD**

**I listened to this while writing. It seems to fit the mood well. :) www .youtube watch?v=3dM2qCCg6GE **

Dean stepped through the door into their cheap hotel room, feeling sick and wanting nothing more than to take a shower and be alone for a few hours. With no angels to fly in and mess up his brain anymore.

But, as was his luck, as soon as he entered the kitchen, intending to head for the refrigerator, there was that soft, faint flutter of wings. Dean nearly groaned out loud. No, please not now. He didn't know how long he could keep this up.

And, sure enough, when he turned around, there was his angel, leaning against the counter. His forehead was creased, though, and he looked... upset. Keeping the emotion out of his voice, Dean asked, "You okay, Cas?"

The angel didn't answer, apparently very keen on having a staring contest. Cas' jaw was clenched.

Dean got a little worried. "Cas?"

Cas looked off to the side, seeming to gather his words. "I... spoke with your brother."

It took Dean a couple minutes to figure out what he meant. "My broth- oh." Dean swallowed.

"Dean, I cannot leave you because you and your brother are my responsibility. But your brother tells me how upset you have been of late; that you are upset that your... _feelings_... are not being reciprocated. Don't misunderstand me, Dean, I want you to be happy," Cas' eyes were dark. "But this cannot go on."

"I-" Dean stepped forward, "What do you mean, Cas?"

"This." Cas said in his deep voice, stepping forward, raising his hand, and snapping in Dean's face.

Instantly, Dean recoiled, but he wasn't _there_ anymore.

Dean was watching himself look at Cas out of the corner of his eye, every one or two seconds, just a glance, as he tried to focus on the book in front of him. He remembered this; this had happened last week. Dean had tried so hard to make those little glances unnoticeable, but he realized now that it was blatantly obvious, that glint in his eye. Love.

Then, he was somewhere else.

In the front seat of the Impala, making a valiant but failing effort to keep his eyes on the road instead of the angel in the back seat.

It was funny, how differently he remembered that scene. He remembered that burning in his chest, yes, but he remembered masking it with a facade he had practiced with Sammy and Father for years. He hadn't remembered how clear it was that his gaze lingered a moment too long, the longing in his eyes soft, but present. No matter how he had tried to mask it.

With a quick intake of breath, Dean was standing in the kitchen again, looking directly into Cas' dark eyes. The angel said nothing, only blinking slowly as to say,_ 'There. That's my point.'_

Maybe it was their close proximity that broke Dean. Or that adorable slow blink. Or the overflow of all of the emotions from each of the flashbacks Cas had shown him. Whatever be the case, the protective wall Dean had placed up crumbled down in one swift moment.

Dean lifted a hand to Cas' cheek and leaned in closer, slowly at first. Cas' eyebrows knitted further, but he wasn't objecting. Maybe he just didn't understand what was happening. Dean's eyes closed and he leaned in further until their lips finally touched. Cas understood.

Cas put his hands on Dean's chest, gripping the jacket forcefully, and Dean responded, deepening the kiss, thinking that this was Cas' version of a positive reaction. But in only a moment, Cas had gathered a good chunk of his strength and violently shoved him across the room. Dean stumbled to the floor. Sometimes he forgot just how _strong_ Cas was. Dean looked up at Cas, the glint of fear in his eyes not hard to find. Dean wasn't stupid. You don't make the Nerd Angels angry._  
_

Cas' eyes were even stormier than before. "This, Dean." Cas' voice was hard. "_This_ needs to stop."

xXx

"What's... happening?" Dean managed, looking up expectantly at Cas, his head resting against his knee. Cas was his Angel. He could fix this. He knew what was happening. He always knew.

The love was blatantly obvious in his gaze. Dean didn't even try to hide it anymore. Why waste the energy? It made no difference. Not anymore. Cas had rejected him. Dean loved Cas but Cas couldn't love, and that was all there was to it.

"Death." Cas's voice was almost... shaky. Dean crept closer and closer to full on hysteria. Cas never spoke like that. He never showed any emotion. All those times Dean knew he was intentionally remaining emotionless... and now, he was finally showing some. "He was upset that we had tried to summon him again." The thought _infuriated_ him.

Dean swallowed thickly, coughed, and tried to speak, but what came out was slurred and impossible to understand.

Cas looked completely panicked. "Dean, I- I can't fix this. My grace can do most things, yes, but I can't heal _death_." Reaching an unsteady hand up, unsure, Cas placed it on Dean's face. Dean turned away, and the shaky hand fell back into Cas' lap.

_No. Not now. You can't do this to me now and expect me to react. Not after you didn't. _

The angel sounded heartbroken. "I can't save you." Dean turned his head back and locked eyes with the angel.

_No. You can't._ Dean thought, not wanting to voice it aloud. The angel already looked on the verge of breaking down completely._ You already missed your chance. You already missed your chance to save whatever scrap of a decent human being I had left in me, and that was the want to be loved in return by the ones you love. Too bad I'll die a monster._

Dean's jaw tightened at that. He really was a monster, wasn't he?

_Too bad my angel couldn't save me._

It was silent for a moment, and Dean closed his eyes, waiting to die. It was silent, though. Too silent. When Dean opened his eyes again, curious, he flinched away with shock.

Tears, actual tears were running down Cas' face as he squeezed his eyes shut, curling in on himself, making an effort to stay as silent as possible. Guilt hit Dean like a tidal wave.

_Cas._ Dean thought. _You don't deserve this. I'm sorry. Just because you didn't want me doesn't constitute me shoving you away like this._

_Even though that's exactly what you did to me,_ that tiny voice in the back of his mind peeped.

_This isn't your fault, and I'm sorry. Please stop crying. Stop crying for me. You don't deserve that._

_... _I_ don't deserve that._

Maybe he would have said that aloud, but his previously failed attempt and the fact that it felt like his throat felt as if it was literally closing in on itself prevented him from doing so.

Dean sat there, then, fighting with himself over how to stop Cas' crying. Turns out he didn't have to do anything. A few seconds later, Cas must have sensed Dean's gaze. Cas opened his eyes, the bright blue things shining with tears.

"Dean, I can _hear_ you." Cas tried to say, his voice cracking nearly every word, tears still running down his cheeks. "Every time you think to me, I hear you. You don't have to be consciously praying._ Every time,_ Dean... it kills me."

Dean stared, wide-eyed, at Cas. _What, you mean like... now?_

"Yes," Cas said, looking away and closing his eyes again, clearly in emotional pain.

Dean suddenly understood why Cas had been crying. His thoughts before then hadn't exactly been forgiving.

_I'm sorry,_ Dean prayed.

"That's just it, you shouldn't _have_ to be sorry!" Cas choked out. "Dean, before this all ends, I want you to understand that it wasn't because I _couldn't_ feel that I... I refused you. I was scared. Dean, I may very well live until the end of time, whereas your human lives are so _short_... If I had returned your feelings, and strengthened our bond, I-" Cas seemed to lose control for a minute, but gained it quickly, "I was afraid of the eternal pain I would have to endure. An eternity without the man I would have spent so much energy making important to me." The blue eyes blinked at him, and in them he could see that Cas didn't expect forgiveness.

Before Dean could respond, something seemed to literally grab him in Death's grip, making him wince. It was coming. He was going to die.

"Dean," Cas added quietly, a new tone entering his voice. "It's okay. You'll make it to heaven, I know you will. An eternity of paradise. After all you've been through, you more than deserve that. Let yourself rest."

Dean could barely hear the words through the pain; they sounded like gibberish, only partly making sense. But the last part stuck out.

"I'll find you, Dean, and then I'll find some way to earn your forgiveness. Or maybe I never will. I love you."

Dean's ragged breathing stopped.

Cas' sobs grew louder.

Each soul gets its own version of personal heaven when it passes on.

There were trillions upon trillions of heavens up there.

Cas knew that he would never find Dean.

But he knew that he would _never_ stop looking.

**Heh. Too much? ;)**


	2. Nerd Angels and Death: Chapter Two

**So the plot bunnies might've attacked. XD GoggleBox is writing something fantastic and it served as great inspiration. :)**

**This takes place directly after the last chapter; Dean is in heaven. :)**

Dean awoke on top of a soft surface, something soft tickling his face. Wrinkling his nose, he opened his eyes to find himself laying on his back in the middle of a meadow. It was comfortable. There was a daisy growing by his shoulder. It was beautiful.

After a few minutes of relaxing, - it seemed as if time was limitless, here - Dean sat up. His eyes immediately found the Impala, parked beside him in the grass. He smiled.

Slowly standing, he made his way over to the car. The grass was soft underfoot. That made Dean happy.

Reaching his hand out, he let it rest on the Impala's door handle. The metal was cool, hard. Euphoria flooded him as the thousands of memories associated with that cold touch of the handle flooded him.

Dean stood there for a moment, drinking in the memories, smiling faintly.

He had no idea that Heaven was censoring them, picking out only the ones that would make Dean smile. Skipping over the ones that would make him cry.

Pulling on the metal, the door swung open easily, invitingly. In one swift, fluid motion, having the faint notion that he had practiced it many times, Dean slid into the seat and shut the door.

Running his hands across the leather of the steering wheel, Dean felt his first negative emotion. A faint frown graced his features as he struggled to identify it.

In a world of peace and euphoria, the mind was a bit slower dealing with the negative emotions.

Most of the time, Heaven censored them out completely. Only this time, Dean's emotions seemed to be a bit more stubborn than that.

_Something was missing,_ Dean figured out. Sitting in the front seat of the Impala, his hands resting on the wheel, it felt as if something was missing. No, not someting. Somebody.

Loneliness. Loneliness was what Dean felt, he realized after a moment. You see, Dean couldn't have total peace without the people he loved. It was what his character fed off of. What he lived for.

The negative emotion must have been extremely strong for him to have felt it. For it to have gotten through Heaven's censoring.

As soon as Heaven sensed what Dean wanted, they did what they did whenever any of its occupants felt this way: place a copy of someone they loved in their heaven. It was against the rules to place the actual person, deceased or not.

There was a faint zapping noise, making Dean's eyebrows crease even further, but when he looked in the seat next to him, there sat Bobby- or rather, heaven's version of Bobby. Programmed to make Dean happy. But Dean didn't know that.

It took Dean a second to identify the man, but, eventually, Heaven let him remember. Though, again, only the good memories were allowed to pass through.

"Bobby," Dean greeted, smiling.

"That's right, son," Bobby replied kindly. "Want to go for a hike?" Bobby asked, pointing through the windshield to the forested hill that heaven had created just for Dean. A little river could be seen trickling down it.

Dean's eyes brightened. "Yes." He responded simply. Everything was simple here.

Dean and Bobby got out of the car and crossed the grassy stretch of land together. They reached the trees after a time. Neither of them were in a hurry.

Dean walked over to the stream and put his hand in it. The water was cool and felt nice on his fingers. This made Dean happy.

But there was still something wrong. "Bobby," Dean said, turning around and standing to face the the man, "Is someone... missing?"

Bobby seemed confused. "Are you still lonely?" He asked, Heaven trying to figure out the problem.

Dean thought about that for a second. Then he nodded.

There was a zapping noise.

Dean saw a man appear next to Bobby. Tall, long hair, brown eyes, moose-like features...

"Sam!" Dean cried happily, taking a step closer and hugging his brother. Yes. This man was his brother.

"Hey, Dean," Heaven-generated Sam greeted, hugging his brother back. "Can I join your hike?"

"Of course, Sammy," Dean said, letting go of the younger man, his brain pulling the nickname out of one of the memories that had been allowed to pass through.

"Let's follow the stream?" Sam suggested. Dean nodded, thinking this was a good idea. The stream was pretty. It made him forget the nagging in his chest that urged him that yet another was missing. Maybe even the most important.

And off the trio went, climbing up the hill, following the cool water as it flowed the opposite direction. Along their journey, both Dean's mother and father appeared. Dean's slight frown did not go away. Heaven began to become frustrated.

"Look, dear," Mary said, and Dean turned to face her. She was bending down, inspecting something. A violet grew out of the ground at her feet. It was beautiful. It made Dean happy for a second.

"Would you like to keep it?" Mary asked.

"Let it grow." he responded.

Mary looked confused. "It won't wilt." she said.

"Let it grow." Dean said again.

Mary complied and they continued on their journey.

The cool stream led them to a break in the trees. The sun shone onto the grass, making the green blades shine. The air was warm. The bubbling stream could still be heard. Dean decided that he liked this spot very much.

"Should we rest here for a bit?" Sam asked Dean. None of them were tired, none of them could ever get tired, but Dean liked the idea of staying here for a bit.

"Yes." Dean answered. And so they stayed.

Dean didn't know how long they sat, looking up at the sky. Time wasn't important anymore.

A butterfly flew around the clearing and landed on Dean's nose. Dean blinked. The insect was pretty. Dean liked it's wings.

Wings.

A faint bell, so very, very faint, was rung in the back of his mind.

Dean frowned. The butterfly flew away.

"What is it?" Dean's father asked.

"Wings..." Dean said softly. "I almost remember-"

There was a zapping noise.

Dean sat up.

A trench coat. Blue eyes... A huge pair of black wings.

Wings.

They were beautiful. They made Dean very happy.

Heaven allowed some memories to pass through.

"Cas!" Dean exclaimed, ecstatic, his eyes brightening with recognition.

Heaven-generated Cas smiled. "Hello, Dean."

Standing up, stumbling quickly to his feet, Dean ran across the clearing to his angel.

Without the 'bad' memories, without the ones Heaven had censored, Dean didn't know that they had never been together. All he knew is what he wanted, not what had happened.

Taking his face in his hands, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to Cas'.

But it was okay- not knowing was okay. Because, after all, this wasn't Cas.

Of course, Dean didn't know. Dean had never been happier. He had his angel, and he had love.

Time continued in this manner for a thousand years.

xXx

Cas sighed, taking in his surroundings. A young boy laughing loudly as he played on a jungle gym, the sun shining overhead. Not Dean.

A flap of his wings.

A woman rocking in her chair in front of the fireplace, watching the Heaven- generated children fondly. Not Dean.

A flap of his wings.

A man with a scraggly beard playing fetch with a deep chocolate colored lab. Not Dean.

A flap of his wings.

Another woman, baking chocolate- chip- banana pancakes and smiling fondly at her swollen, Heaven- generated stomach. Not Dean.

A flap of his wings.

A man driving his car on a never- ending road. Green eyes. Blonde hair. Nearly Dean. But not Dean.

A flap of his wings.

Life continued in this manner for a thousand years.

xXx

**A Thousand Years Later**

Cas looked around. A meadow. A car. Where were this Heaven's occupants?

Closing his eyes, he quickly searched the Heaven. He sensed the person and its Heaven- generated companions up in the forest.

With a flap of his wings, Cas flew into the forest. Cas started when he saw _himself_. Reminding himself he was invisible, he looked for the person for whom this Heaven was made. He didn't dare let himself hope. Dean wasn't the only person who had seen him in that vessel.

Oh, who was he kidding, after a thousand years of searching, he desperately hoped beyond anything else that this was Dean's Heaven. He had gone too far to be distant from his emotions anymore.

A twig snapped behind him. Cas turned.

Dean.

It was Dean.

His brain was capable of thinking of little else. Finally, he had been successful. He had found him. _Dean_.

The man, a brilliant smile on his face, started walking towards him. And then right through him to the copy of himself standing behind him. Cas followed him with his eyes as the ex- hunter _kissed_ him. And the copy of himself kissed Dean back.

It was funny how after a thousand years a few minutes of this seemed to last so much longer.

Impatient, he made himself visible. Dean still didn't notice him.

Swallowing, the angel averted his eyes. A few hundred feet away stood Dean's parents and Bobby. They seemed happy, even talking amongst themselves, which the Heaven- generated people seldom did. Heaven was happy that Dean was happy.

But then, suddenly, they all turned to face him. They looked upset. Cas turned towards Dean again. He was standing protectively in front of Heaven- Cas, not knowing it was merely an embodiment of Heaven itself.

"Dean," Cas started. "It's me, the real me."

Dean ruffled his eyebrow. He wasn't angry yet. Being at total peace for that long, he was nearly desensitized completely to all negative emotion, especially anger. He sure as heck was confused, though.

Dean's eyes flickered back to the version of himself that was standing behind him. The version of himself who had loved him without complaint for a thousand years. When Dean's eyes wandered back to the real Cas, he shook his head slightly, as if to say,_ 'I'm happy with what I have.'_

Cas stared at Dean. "I don't understand." He said quietly. But he did. He just wasn't ready to accept defeat just yet.

Somebody tapped him on the shoulder. He slowly turned. It was Dean's mother. She did not look happy.

"Dean is happy." She said. "This is our only job. Please leave."

Cas turned back to Dean, who looked as if he was desperately trying to remember something but was failing. The poor man looked so confused.

Cas turned back to Mary, who seemed to be Heaven's main mouthpiece. "Please, if you could only uncover his memories-"

Mary shook her head. "That would make him upset."

"But only for a time, not after he-"

"Please. Leave." Mary interrupted impatiently. "He is upset merely by your presence. It confuses him."

"Please," Cas said again, but his voice was softer. Mary's eyes hardened. He did not want to be on the receiving end of Heaven's punishments.

Swallowing, he turned to Dean again. And then the angel was gone.

Heaven- Cas rubbed circles on Dean's back, trying to comfort him. Dean turned around and wrapped his arms around the angel, who in turn wrapped his wings around Dean. After a time, Dean completely forgot about the incident and was returned to complete peace once more.

But, you know, the word 'gone' doesn't necessarily imply the complete absence of a figure. Sometimes, 'gone' is only a matter of perspective. Sometimes 'gone' may only mean invisible to most eyes.

A thousand years can really alter the way you think. A certain Nerd Angel knows this best of all.


End file.
